DAYS IN MY GARDEN 



pool, the huge square arbour of yew, with its un- 

 inviting bench and colony of spiders, the great straw- 

 berry beds, the dead-ripe fruit in aggravating 

 abundance, the cherry trees just across the lane, a 

 score and more of boyhood memories arise ah me 1 

 what days ! Methinks that then the world was kinder 

 and strawberries were sweeter. 



To some a fragrant perfunfd breath, 

 Just sweet and that is all 

 To me love's deepest words it saith, 

 Its hallowed scenes recall. 



WOODS IN JUNE 



IN the hot days of June when the fields are a 

 shimmering haze, how delightful it is to seek the 

 thicker shade of the woods and be refreshed by their 

 cool dampness and absence of glare, but one cannot 

 fail to note the bounty of leafage which, in its wild 

 and utter profusion, is so extravagant that beauty 

 seems to have almost smothered itself. 



The spring carpet of flowers has disappeared and 

 the scene of its lovely freshness, which filled the 

 atmosphere with varying delicate fragrance, has now 



134 



